Page 44 of Arrogant Puck

His eyes light up. “Finally! I’ve been waiting for you to come around. Your hips have been screaming for attention all season.” He’s practically bouncing in his chair. “I’m so glad Sage could change your mind about working with me.”

I don’t correct him. Let him think what he wants. Let him anticipate our little talk.

“After practice,” I repeat, then walk away before he can say anything else.

Practice is brutal. My stick finds flesh more than puck, and when I check Davidson into the boards, I put everything I have behind it. The satisfying crack of his shoulder against the glass echoes through the rink, and he goes down hard.

“Jesus, Slater!” Coach yells, but I’m already skating away.

Davidson’s clutching his shoulder, face twisted in pain, and I know Sage will be busy with him for a while. Perfect.

After practice, I’m barely out of my gear when Riley calls my name. “Slater! Ready for that session?”

I nod, following him toward the equipment room. Sage is standing in the hallway, her medical bag slung over her shoulder, and her eyes find mine. There’s something wary in her expression, like she knows something is up.

I hold her gaze and let her see exactly what I’m capable of. Let her wonder what I’m about to do.

Riley’s chattering about muscle tension and flexibility as we walk into the empty room.

“You know, if we can just get your hip flexors—”

I slam him against the brick wall, my forearm pressed across his chest. His words die in his throat, eyes going wide with shock.

“Listen carefully,” I say, my voice low and steady. “You’re going to quit. Today. Tomorrow. I don’t care exactly when, but it’s going to be soon.”

“What? Slater, I don’t understand—”

I press harder, and he gasps. “You’re going to find another job. Another team. Another city. And you’re going to do it without causing a scene.”

“Why? I haven’t done anything—”

“You want to keep your reputation intact? Keep your career from going up in flames?” I lean closer, letting him see the cold promise in my eyes. “Then you’ll disappear. Quietly. Because if you don’t, I’ll make sure your life is a living fucking hell. I’ll make sure everyone knows exactly what kind of man you really are. The kind of man who preys on women who can’t fight back.”

His face goes pale. “That’s not—I would never—”

“Wouldn’t you?” I smile, and it’s not a pleasant expression. “Because I can make it look like you did. I can make it look like whatever I want. And who’s going to believe you over me?”

I release him and step back, watching him stumble against the wall. “Two weeks. That’s all you get.”

The sound of footsteps makes me turn. Sage emerges from the hallway, her face unreadable in the dim light. Riley straightens his shirt, shooting nervous glances between us, then hurries out the door without another word.

The door clicks shut behind him, and suddenly it’s just me and Sage in the empty room.

“What just happened?” she asks, her voice carefully neutral.

I look at her for a long moment, this woman who’s been consuming my thoughts and driving me to the edge of sanity. She has no idea what I just did for her. No idea how dark I’m willing to go to keep her safe.

And I can’t tell her. Can’t let her see this side of me.

So, I do what I always do—I ignore her question and walk toward the door, leaving her standing alone.

Her hand wraps around my bicep, small fingers digging in with surprising strength. “Are you insane?”

I stop, muscles tensing under her touch, but I don’t turn around.

“You might be the notorious player around here, but Riley’s going to go straight to HR,” she continues, her voice rising with barely controlled panic. “He’s going to report you, Slater. What the hell are you thinking?”

I shrug her off and face her, letting the fury I’ve been holding back bleed into my expression. “I don’t care.”

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